


Gift me your cookies, baby

by YellowGrass



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anal Fingering, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak Are Best Friends, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Divorced Eddie, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie has a shitty therapist, Idiots in Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Midlife Crisis, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Romantic Comedy, Top Eddie Kaspbrak/Bottom Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowGrass/pseuds/YellowGrass
Summary: Eddie had a nasty divorce and to regain his peace of mind he started going to a therapist. The advice he received seemed extremely odd to him, but nonetheless one on them marked the beginning of a very intriguing chain of events that might change his whole life.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Gift me your cookies, baby

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2016 if you check dates.
> 
> Eddie thinks that his therapist is conning him, it's his opinion not mine.
> 
> Fair warning: English is not my first language, so you may come across a couple of strange expressions, but the text was beta read and checked in a grammar checking program, so don't panic ;) I think it's at least funny.
> 
> Anyway, feel free to roast me in comments.

Christmas frenzy started to gradually blossom in New York as always weeks prior to the event, slowly encompassing with its shimmering conviviality the entire city. Busy streets were already decorated with lights, Christmas trees erected in every slightly decent mall and Christmas music came from every ditch. Needless to say, that all of this pompous splendor led Eddie to a slight feeling of irritation. It was supposed to relax him, maybe even cheer him up. But all that Eddie was capable of feeling after a hard day of work was blunt tiredness. With all these people roaming the streets, scurrying from one store to another with a bunch of packages which were not hung only on the customers' ears, it was barely enjoyable.

Well, he actually made attempts to enjoy. He would wander through the lighted streets in the city center, for the first time in many years paying careful attention to the signs of the coming holiday, bouncing off an enthusiastic guy in a Grinch costume who tried to corner him near some stupid shop with an offer to take a photo, and even stand for a couple of minutes in the nearest proximity of some flashing lights on the building just staring at them as some kind of a lunatic. Though maybe he felt something. But he was pretty sure it was just embarrassment.

Nevertheless, throughout the week Eddie visited a bunch of shops and places in the city center. First of all, he had to buy some knickknacks for his colleagues and he didn't want to wait until the last moment because he absolutely hated store lines. However, if it was the whole case, he wouldn't have needed to jostle in a huge crowd for the third time this week.

The case was that two month before Christmas he gifted himself the first therapy appointment. Not that it was the easiest decision in his life, but he couldn't underestimate how drastically his life began to fall apart after the divorce. No doubt, the decision to leave his wife was salutary, he believed in it as in nothing else in the world. However, his illusory shelter was destroyed now, and Eddie felt as if he completely lost the ground under his feet. He just didn't know how to live now after almost ten years in marriage. He'd been ignoring the problem for far too long for his own good, drown out the signals for the sake of comfort and confidence in the future but he couldn't run from himself forever. So, after the divorce and after a series of breakdowns induced by deep guilt, self-loathing and utter bewilderment he finally did find a shrink. And the shrink asked him to try.

That's why contemplating that all of the pre-holiday events were a creature of pure commerce and that the road accident rate was the highest near Christmas, Eddie still held a syringe with icing and stared intensely at the cookies he was definitely bullied to decorate.

"Come on, you can do it. It's literally the easiest part!" he thought to himself, recollecting all the stuff he was tasked with.

"You need to raise your head sometimes, Edward," said a little middle-aged woman with messy hair who claimed to be his therapist and continued the session completely unimpressed by his skeptical glare.

He was almost forty, going through a nasty divorce, felt lost and second-guessed his choice, like, fifteen times a day just ready to run back to his loveless, codependent mutually used semblance of a relationship, and all he got as a cure was "raise your head" advice? Did he really pay for this "go for a walk, don't be sad, you need a hobby" stuff here?

But here he was: making Christmas cookies and even enjoying it quite a bit.

He was halfway through decorating the cookies with some kind of unpretentious patterns when his phone rang. He had already cursed unexpected work questions, when a familiar voice came from the speaker, and Eddie almost dropped his culinary masterpiece on the floor.

"W-want me to come to Christmas Eve?" Bill Denbrough, an old friend of his, asked bluntly, apparently hoping to catch Eddie off guard. He almost managed it but Eddie wasn't that easy himself.

"And who the fuck is this?" he said innocently and smiled when a small chuckle came from the other side. But his good humor didn't last because he very much remembered that he hadn't heard from Bill for almost two months.

"I'm really sorry, buddy. My wife and I are having some... mi-misunderstandings so I just..."

"You tell me," Eddie stopped his apologies and went on with his cookies, pressing the phone to the ear with his shoulder. "So she kicked you out and you want to celebrate with me because now you're basically homeless, is this correct?"

"If it strokes your ego, yeah. So what about it? Do you w-want me to come?" he sounded genuinely concerned and it made everything even worse. "Because it's your first Christmas Eve after the divorce" part left unsaid but Eddie didn't need to hear it to feel deeply ashamed. He was a grown-up, he didn't need babysitting.

"No," he grumbled and at the peak of irritation spilled some icing on the wrong place. "Fuck."

"I still come."

"No, you don't. Because I won't let you in."

"No need to be a b-bitch about it, Eddie," Bill answered exasperatedly. "We haven't seen each other for ages."

"Yeah, sure, and our touching reunion has obviously nothing to do with my divorce, Denbrough. Even if you choose this particular moment of all the four years we haven't met in person. Completely unrelated."

"I do care for you, asshole, why you s-so surprised?"

Eddie just snorted. He'd always been suspicious of others' intentions but now it escalated in particular since...

Well, okay, maybe he was not completely fair here. Not that Bill was avoiding him; he just seemed too busy with his hot actress wife and... He could admit it now that he was a little bit jealous. Like in not an entirely friendly way.

"I don't want to talk about Myra then," he said defeated. He'd been overthinking that enough on his own. Eddie left Myra after ten fucking years, and she didn't even know why. Not to mention that Bill didn't know that either, and Eddie strived to keep it this way.

"And what about your w-work?"

"It's all right, people are still delightfully careless."

Actually, Bill chose the precisely right moment for this question because the last couple of weeks Eddie was worried by recent layoffs in his company. Not that he was on a blacklist or something but once in a while unpleasant thoughts still crossed his mind. What would he do if he lost his job? Find a new one with the same position and salary would be hardly possible. Not that Bill needed to know about it.

Despite the agreement, Bill ended up arriving almost two weeks earlier than Christmas Eve. He stayed in a hotel at first because no way Eddie was going to reveal to him an alarmingly pitiful state of his abode. Though it was a decent new apartment that was located closer to Eddie's workplace (because the ex-spouses sold the house and split the money 50/50), there were clear signs of insanity that could be spotted by slightly attentive look. Incense sticks for meditation he never did were scattered around the house and on the fridge hung some stupid checklists with tasks from the therapist. The rest of the apartment looked pristine as though it was bought just yesterday and not four full months ago. Oh, all of that and a freaking dream catcher hanging on the handle of the bedroom closet had to make a horrific impression. It had to look like there lived some kind of a shaman with imposter syndrome. Pun intended.

Since Bill needed to get some sleep after the flight, Eddie had some free time on a Friday night. So today was the day, and Eddie went out feeling jittery. Because today Eddie was going to take his previously self-made cookies and gift them to a stranger.

Since he was diagnosed with trust issues, which inevitably led to isolation, the therapist tried to make him open up more. Because actually Eddie didn't want to be lonely. He just acted very carefully after two main women in his life had tried to deceive him, to make him dependent on them maybe even not out of bad intentions but still. It just takes time, he wasn't ready for new close people yet.

But the shrink kept saying that there never would be the right time. And even though Eddie didn't believe a jackshit she was saying about him ("You want to be in a bad situation, Edward, you think you don't deserve help. You think you deserve to suffer because you left that wife of yours") he really wanted to fight for his best future.

So Eddie went out of his company's building half an hour after the majority of his colleagues had rushed to the parking lot. He didn't want anyone to see him because it was embarrassing that he, a leading specialist in his neat overpriced business suit and an elegant beige coat, was sitting on the bench at a bus stop, waiting for his prey with a box of cookies. Eddie was almost ready to stand up a couple of times, while somebody remotely pleasant-looking passed by, but he froze up every single time – tension in his muscles never being realized into movement – until the person went away. He sat there for an hour at least, nervous and annoyed by his own inability to just fucking do it. Buses arrived and departed, it got pretty dark outside and even began to snow a little; tiny snowflakes fell to the ground, immediately melting on the concrete. Eddie sighed, slowly making peace with the idea that today he would go home with his tail between his legs, when suddenly a very noticeable couple stepped out from a hotel on the other side of the street and made a beeline to the Mexican restaurant right in the next building.

Now or never, Eddie thought and crossed the street in record time, but to his displeasure, the couple walked pretty fast, and by the time he approached the Mexican restaurant, they had already disappeared inside. Eddie had no choice but to wait outside like some sort of detective spying on an unfaithful spouse after he had managed to convince himself that "I don't look creepy. I don't. Just staying here waiting for a friend. I'm not stalking this couple of morons."

And morons they were: the man wearing a Santa hat with antlers and a sweater all wrapped in flashing lights (he didn't even wear a coat in the winter!) and the woman with red hair who was wearing bright red lipstick. Myra would definitely hate them at first sight and that was part of the reasons why he chose them as his targets. He couldn't just miss them.

Although Eddie didn't think it would be possible to overlook them when they came out in their gaudy clothes done with the food. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the couple to reappear at the front door with some paper bags of food. Eddie stopped pacing and followed them, quickly processing how to start a conversation. However, when the couple approached the entrance of the hotel and a saving idea didn't miraculously pop in Eddie's head, he quickened his pace and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Are you cosplaying Rudolph or something?" Eddie called out and immediately swore to himself.

When the man turned around and showed among other things his huge funny-looking glasses, Eddie only hoped that the fragile accessory would prevent him from being punched in the face The man was about six inches higher and obviously several pounds heavier, so Eddie had no illusions about his ability to defend himself. But to his surprise he didn't seem offended, just raised his prominent eyebrows giving a small angry man in front of him an amused look.

"Well... Yeah? Did you want to? I stole your piece of the pie?" he quipped in response, grinning wildly, and Eddie thought that his slightly reddened nose resembled distinctly a reindeer nose. What the fuck he was thinking?

"No, I just..." Eddie paused, not knowing how to say it, "I got something for you both," he gestured in their general direction.

"For little ol' me? And what is it, shortstack? Something sweet?" he ogled at the box stuck under his armpit, and anger raised in the pit of Eddie's stomach. He had enough humiliation for today.

"Fuck you, man, I'm not a shortstack, and if you don't fucking want these goddamn cookies I'll throw them in a motherfucking trashcan."

"Whoa whoa whoa, buddy," the man managed to say laughing so hard that he started to cough in the end. "We'll take them, it's just so cute of you and I didn't expect..."

That's when the Redhead decided to intervene. She came closer to Eddie and gave him a suspicious look, her brows furrowed.

"Wait a bit, Richie. I think I've seen him near the Mexican place."

Eddie's heart skipped a beat, all his body filled with embarrassment. Well, fuck, they had caught him, hadn't they? Maybe at this point he should be fleeing already and not staying at his place completely frozen, but his limbs refused to move from the place. That stupid therapy. Stupid cookies and stupid-stupid Eddie!

But the man in front of him seemed quite thrilled for some unknown reason.

"Yeah? Oh, so you wanna poison us, maybe, even rape. Are you some kind of a crazy fan? Shit, I'm so nervous, I've never had one. Do I look good, Bevvy?"

"No, you don't. But not the point. Could you explain first why you've been stalking us?"

His face flushed even redder and he was about to run away when the man, Richie, hugged himself and let out an exaggerated "brr" sound.

"Hey, look, why don't you explain it inside because I'm pretty sure my balls are freezing off."

They headed to the hotel room with Bevvy, or as he found out later, Beverly scolding Richie for not putting his jacket on. As soon as they were seated on the couch, Eddie mumbled rapidly his version of the story internally dying from embarrassment, but Beverly immediately apologized for her paranoia and explained that her ex-husband had tried to send suspicious people after her before. This made Eddie realize that he had much more in common with Beverly than he initially thought.

The two of them chatted about their previous marriages – so far only superficially – but it still felt good to talk about it with someone who could understand. He was in the middle of explaining what he did for living when Richie butted in the conversation with a loud obnoxious snore. Without second thought, Eddie just slapped him on the forearm and stared at him shocked as though he couldn't believe that he'd just done it. But the man only chuckled and rubbed the sore spot. It was just that simple. He and Beverly seemed both so easy to be around.

Richie turned out to be a comedian. No wonder that he had mentioned crazy fans before. He had a show here in New York and now they both stayed at a hotel until they could find a rental place. When Richie asked if Eddie had ever heard of Richie Trashmouth Tozier, Eddie proudly answered "never".

When it was time to go home, Beverly and Richie gave him their phone numbers and texted Eddie ever since. He could be home cleaning his rooms from top to bottom and hidings his idiotic dream catcher in the bottom drawer of the desk (because he didn't want Bill to accidentally find it) when he would get a tricky question from Bev. Or he could be at his office listening to the colleagues at the meeting when he would get a stupid picture from Richie. He didn't mind it though. As absurd as his therapist's plan was, it seemed to work in a good way.

Bill materialized on his doorstep on Tuesday evening as Eddie had confirmed that his flat was ready for visitors and claimed to forgive his childhood friend for messing with his schedule. Bill occupied the living room by throwing his (dirty) bag on the meticulously made-up with sheets fold-out sofa. Eddie made a face at that but said nothing. Especially since very soon all his worries were washed away by two glasses of red wine.

They were having dinner and reminiscing about their neighborhood in Maine when Eddie got a notification. He closed his chat with a photo of Richie's belly in a washed-out t-shirt with the caption ‘I have your cookies’ to read a text from Bev. Bill looked over his shoulder and let out a long hum.

"L-let me have a look at her photos," he said after a long pause.

"What... Why?" Eddie inquired suspiciously. "Let me remind you that you have a wife, Denbrough, and Bev's with that Richie guy."

"Fuck off, man! It's not... I... Wait! W-what's you just said? Her name is B-Beverly?" Bill asked, his eyes widened, "Redheaded Beverly? What's her surname? Where's she from?"

"Christ, I don't know, we met like five days ago, we haven't talked about it yet!"

So Bill convinced him to arrange a meeting between the two of them. However, Eddie thought that it was unacceptable to leave her alone with Bill because, firstly, he already grew to like Richie and, secondly, he didn't want to leave Bill alone with her too due to a whole number of personal reasons. Therefore, it made four of them crowding near the front door of a restaurant waiting for each other. But as it turned out all his worries were unreasonable because Beverly Marsh appeared to be an old friend of Bills: she studied at the same school in Maine, and Bill and she met in high school when Eddie had already moved away.

They occupied a corner booth in a nice, unobtrusively decorated restaurant and ordered some food. Or, to be more accurate, Richie and he did while Bill and Beverly were so excited to see each other again that they had to order for them. Eddie snorted at the lively conversation in which he couldn't get a word in and glanced at Richie who caught his look and expressively wiggled his eyebrows. Eddie looked at his glass of champagne and thought that it was a much nicer way to spend Thursday evening (because Eddie had planned to just go home and finish his work in advance, mindlessly peeking at a muted TV).

He liked the setting: shiny tinsel and neat garlands, a little Christmas tree in the corner, and light music. He liked loud chatting and his passive role right now as he was too tired after a workday to be in the spotlight. He was pleasantly buzzed and thoughtless and almost missed the moment when Bill gestured in his direction, obviously waiting for him to say something.

"We planned to celebrate quietly at home but if you're interested we could meet again sometime before Christmas. Or maybe even on it. What do you think, Eddie, should we invite them?" he asked, surprisingly without stutter, and six pairs of expecting eyes stared at Eddie all at once.

"Uh..." he started but didn't manage to finish because of one particular man in front of him.

"What, you, like, live together? Roommates or...?" Richie gestured awkwardly with his hand and then blushed almost imperceptibly, making Eddie want to die on the spot.

"Roommates," Bill answered in a second and Eddie backed him up without second thought, "Yeah, I was married to a woman and Bill has a wife." He mumbled that and immediately cringed at his own wording. Oh God, why he just started saying this... The fuck he was talking as if he had to justify himself! "Bill lives in LA and we are childhood friends so... why bother with a hotel," he added as if it could somehow help the already fucked-up situation.

"Okay, okay, we got very clearly that you're not together, thank you boys," Beverly smirked at them before glancing at Richie, who didn't seem to share her amusement. He tried to act as though he did by letting out an uneasy laugh, but still avoided to look Eddie in the eye.

"Shit, Eds, just breathe, you seem about to faint. Uncle Richie didn't mean to scare you off under the table."

"I fucking don't, dickwad!" Eddie shouted in pure anger that had replaced his confusion in an instant. Some of the other customers turned at that, and he promptly muted himself. "I was just explaining things."

Beverly laughed again, adjusting a stray lock of red hair. She looked pointedly at Eddie then, her next words made him frown.

"Okay, as the things are already explained, I feel I should tell you that Richie and I are also not a couple. Just for you to know."

Bill elbowed him immediately voicing his thoughts about Eddie's abilities to assume. Richie's lips also narrowed into a thin crooked line indicating smugness, his blue eyes gleamed slyly under the lenses. An awkward edge in his demeanor dissipated as quickly as had arisen.

"Why, did you think this incomparably smart, kind and beautiful creature has to settle for Beverly?" It was Richie's turn to be elbowed then.

***

The rest of Eddie's week went by relatively quiet with his usual 9 to 5 office work and small talks in the evening with his current roommate. Bill texted Beverly a lot and occasionally told Eddie marvelous high school stories. Eddie still suspected that he liked Bev too much for his own good, but didn't voice his assumptions because he might as well mistook again. Moreover, it was absolutely none of his business. Bill was a big boy; he probably knew what he was doing. Besides, he knew now that Beverly was single so it wasn't that he was some kind of a home wrecker. None of his business again.

Eddie's therapy sessions were usually scheduled for Saturdays, and he even managed to confess of having them to Bill (reluctantly though and only because he didn't have any choice currently living with him 24/7). Bill seemed pleasantly surprised, said it was a big step and even clapped Eddie on the shoulder in the apogee of male support. Eddie didn't tell the whole truth about how he had met Beverly and Richie yet though. But, unfortunately, at the last session he had no chance to pull off the same trick with the shrink. He had been forced to tell the embarrassing story from beginning to end before storming out of her cabinet with a new task, which he had accomplished, by the way, but didn't want to reveal this fact out of pure stubbornness.

So proudly silent during the interview called "why Eddie was worthy of love" and while quick-checking his phone Eddie realized with mild perplexity that he had four missed calls from Richie. When the session ended, he dialed him without even bothering to leave the building first.

"Dick Trashmouth speaking," came from the other side. There were some vague sounds that he couldn't make out. Some conversations or music? Was Richie out? Eddie belatedly thought about that he probably disturbed Richie but quickly shut this though down. If it had been inconvenient, he wouldn't have answered.

"Apparently, I got the wrong number. Bye," Eddie said but didn't try to put the phone down. "What did you want? I have four missed calls from your number."

There was a small pause before the other man answered.

"Uh... Just wanted to take you out?" Eddie didn't have time to frown because Richie added quickly, "Like, Bill informed us that you don't have any Christmas toys so. Wanna go buy them tomorrow?"

He contemplated it for a moment. Go to the mall on December 18? If Richie had a lot of time to waste, it didn't mean he had. Moreover, how many people could possibly be crammed there? It was out of the question, he would just die from lack of oxygen. Or at least catch some disease and spend the holidays in bed as it had already happened in childhood. Or…

Eddie voiced another thing though.

"No way in hell I go anywhere with a guy named Dick Trashmouth."

"You may call me Richie then," came after a small chuckle. When he stopped letting out lewdnesses his voice sounded much gentler: deep and throaty, and maybe even pleasant to hear. "Would you go anywhere with a guy named Richie?"

Eddie opened my mouth to say no but the words just died on his tongue. It was too impolite to refuse like this, wasn't it?

In hindsight, he could confidently say that he was one hundred percent right. To go to the mall on December 18 and Sunday was the most terrible idea in the world. Even though he met Richie at eleven on his doorstep, having thoroughly cleaned the apartment only for him to wave Bill hello through the slit of the door (Bill was teasing him for being a cleaning maniac the whole morning), and arrived at the mall at about twelve, it had already been pretty crowded there.

They had to maneuver through a congested stream of people, Eddie frantically eyed signs with the sections' names. They had to go right to the goods, take them and go away as soon as possible. Actually, Eddie had some decorations at home but confined to the bare minimum. After the change of place of living these were the last things Eddie thought to purchase.

However, Richie didn't seem to share his stance. To be fair, he didn't even hear it at all because he immediately headed to the bright tinsel as if he was a magpie.

Eddie sanitized his hands twice in ten minutes. Not that he touched many things that could make the hands actually dirty, but there were too many people for his taste. He reached into his pocket for the bottle of sanitizer for the third time, totally absentmindedly, and Richie followed the whole action with his glance.

"Germaphobia?" he asked, and Eddie's hand froze, not reaching their destination. He pursed his lips.

"Kind of. You can't even imagine how many diseases may possibly proliferate in this place right now. All these people came here with their own germs."

"Nah, I can. 've been talking with one of these tiny germies since your apartment." Eddie glared at him but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Actually, there is a friend of mine with a similar situation. So, familiar with this stuff. Sounds like an issue to be discussed with your therapist though."

"What is it supposed to mean?"

"Absolutely nothing," Richie paused for a moment without taking his eyes off the gold tinsel he was fiddling with his fingers. "I have a therapist too, you know."

"Does your therapist make you do weird stuff too?" Eddie asked, a little surprised by this confession. And also very curious. Was it just for the soul or he had real problems? Frankly speaking, Richie made the first impression of a thoughtless guy with stupid jokes, maybe man-child even, or some kind of a bimbo. If he had been good-looking. Eddie peeked at him, rearranging his thoughts, and found himself somehow stuck.

"No. We just talk."

"I feel like my shrink is screwing me over."

"Aren't you grateful at least a little?"

"Why?"

"Cause you know... Your friend found his ex-girlfriend."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie almost shouted, and Richie gave him a mischievous grin. "Bev's gonna kill me. I didn't tell you this one."

Richie turned away and rushed to the counter with toys. When he grabbed a box of red tree balls with matching ornaments and stuffed them in the shopping cart, Eddie realized that he hadn't even asked for his opinion. And hurried to join in before Richie picked out all the decorations for his apartment without him. At some point, a crowd formed around the counter, and Eddie was suddenly grabbed by the arm and pushed gently through the throng.

They made their way through the stream of people to a relatively empty section, but all Eddie could focus on was how it tingled in the place where Richie's hand had touched his. Eddie lifted his chin abruptly, feeling confused but he had no time to process this thought because as soon as they approached a new counter Richie found a fake beard and a Santa hat, putting them on in one go.

"So, have you been a good little boy?" he did a strange kind of a Santa voice that made Eddie raise his eyebrows in amusement.

"The only thing that's little here is your dick, dick."

"Your mom begs to differ. And I thought we'd already established that I'm Richie guy, didn't we?"

It turned out his jokes weren't that stupid. Or Eddie's standards appeared to be not so high which didn't matter actually because he genuinely enjoyed himself. Maybe he had to preserve some decency but, well, Richie'd literally met him when he tried to stalk them, failed, and then shouted at Richie for hesitating to take a present from a stranger. No chance he could think even more less of him now.

Especially not when Richie himself held a very silly horse head tree topper near his face. A handsome one, as he finally decided. Thinking that he was Beverly's husband prevented him from checking him out before but now when he knew the real situation Eddie allowed himself to hold his gaze on him a little bit longer.

At least now he was wearing a jacket.

They'd been staying in a line for half an hour and it wasn't even so bad because Richie at first entertained him by talking loudly, mostly jokes (mostly your mama ones), but at some point, he probably got tired and narrated a little about his show. He used to be a hack comedian, which didn't surprise Eddie at all. But a couple of years ago he dropped that persona and started out again, from very beginning, performed in small bars without much payment just to build a new image from the shards. Now he was facing a prospect of taking part in a big show, even Eddie who was nowhere near comedy had heard about it a couple of times. He didn't tell why he'd changed his mind though, and when Eddie asked this question, the man merely joked it off.

Eddie gave him an inquiring look and continued to be giving it until they were inside the car; all purchases are neatly stacked in the back seat. Or might be it lost its inquiring character some minutes ago, and Eddie just stared at his messy dark hair covered in single snowflakes that landed there for a short time of about two minutes they had been looking for the car. Might be he looked a little bit at his sharp knees too and then accidentally peeked between his legs. No one knew.

The car belonged to Richie; it was him who had driven them here in the first place because Eddie had to sell his car as well to buy an apartment miles away from his ex-wife. Fortunately, he lived 20 minutes' walk from his office now and didn't need to commute by underground.

"So... Are you that grumpy old guy that hates Christmas? Why didn't you have any stuff?"

Eddie told him about the consequences of the divorce and that he hadn't taken any belongings with him except maybe his clothes. Nothing of joint property. He just got money. All their shared things were sold at auction. Besides, he had an office party, so he didn't need them. He bought some wreaths on the door and a couple of candles. He didn't even buy pictures in his new one-bedroom yet.

"Do you think you can bring somebody to the party?"

"Yeah, a new wife," Eddie snapped in a joking way. "Should I ask Beverly to just fucking bring this to an end? 'Cause there is a colleague of mine that, like, wish I became the father of her two children. Dread the day she'll be able to ask me for a dance."

Richie gave in an ironic snort, his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Wouldn't blame her," he mumbled staring at the road. Eddie almost thought that he misheard it, but a little flush high at the man's pale cheekbones told him otherwise. He felt that he started to blush himself.

Had he just flirted with him? Eddie couldn't tell. It was the first time a man showed interest in him openly. So he did the only thing he could think of right now and just let it pass. Even if it made something inside him to clench with longing.

Eddie didn't even tell his therapist that he was gay and still complained about meaningless tasks (he knew he wasn't right, just couldn't get a grip yet to finally say it out loud).

Richie ignored it either. He helped to carry the boxes to the apartment, and with a final wink at Bill, disappeared behind the door. And the usual texts he got from him the next morning indicated that nothing had changed. He still sent Eddie stupid memes and funny pictures during the working hours making Eddie giggle over worksheets. And what if he replied a little too eager to all of them?

But mostly the days dragged slowly, one similar to another, and he thought (mostly) about work, an annual report that had to be prepared by Friday night, and upcoming office party as well as about his therapist and celebration with Bill. He had to make some dinner maybe. Probably buy champagne.

He came home on Wednesday evening with one bottle he'd took in the nearest shop, kicked off his boots, and washed his hands in the bathroom. Opened the cabinet's door there, glazing at a flat line of bottles that occupied the shelves. And it's only, like, one-fourth of all the meds he had had before the divorce. Eddie grabbed one bottle, poured one pill into his palm, and swallowed, taking a sip from a glass of water. He went to the kitchen then, looking for his temporary roommate, but stopped in the hall when the doorbell rang. Frowned in confusion, he opened the door, and his glance hit upon two familiar faces.

"Why are you here?"

"Hi, Eddie," Beverly greeted him and gave the owner a joyful smirk. "Hey, Eds, I missed you too," Richie stepped in right after her with a wink.

"What the fuck?" he said exasperatedly when two people unceremoniously passed through his door invading his apartment right under his nose. They were greeted by Bill, who'd magically appeared behind his back without making a sound.

"It's okay, Eddie, I... I invited them."

"Well, but _I didn't_! What the hell's going on?"

"Untwist your knickers, Spaghetti, we're here to help. Do you think we bought all the Christmas stuff for you to tuck it under your fucking bed?"

"I don't need your help, asshole!" Eddie huffed, just pissed that nobody had warned him in advance than anything else. Beverly elbowed him a little and narrowed her eyes playfully.

"Yes, you do. I don't see festiveness oozing out of every closet, so yeah. We gonna decorate your bare walls, just suck it up and have fun."

"Fuck you, people," he sighed, defeated, and moved to the living room/now Bill's bedroom where the main event was going to take place.

Together, they found a small Christmas tree carefully hidden in Eddie's closet. All his purchases were still under his bed, as Richie had pointed out, as well as the gifts he bought in advance to his colleagues. Bill laughed at him when they took all of them out, claiming that he was stocking up all over the apartment like a real squirrel. And he didn't even know about the sleep catcher!

All of them gathered in the living room, surrounded by boxes with toys and other decorations, and chatted while quickly setting up a little spruce and hanging the balls they had recently bought. Beverly told that Richie passed the casting. He boasted jokingly that he didn't doubt it at all, acting smug, but Eddie could tell that he did count it as his accomplishment. Bev looked glad too. She told them before why she had been staying here with Richie. Actually, right after Eddie mistook her for his wife. She wanted to support her best friend, and at the same time it wasn't purely selfless action. She wanted to feel important again after the divorce. And be there for her friend when she didn't have much to do anyway – to do something kind, something generous as a way to be needed, helpful, and therefore valuable – it might be the first step in a long path they both had to walk. It seemed pretty simple and... Eddie's therapist basically asked him to do the same thing, didn't she? Maybe she wasn't such a crook after all.

While Beverly and Bill hung socks all over the apartment, Eddie and Richie were busy wrapping Christmas lights on the curtain rail. Somehow, it always turned out that he was paired with Richie for any task. Maybe it was mere coincidence or maybe one of them (or both) gravitated toward another unconsciously. Not that he minded though; he'd just been very aware of his presence: the pleasant scent of Richie's cologne, his dark curls, and his sharp jawline with little stubble. His magnificent eyes and brightest smile. His big strong body. Big palms that held the stepladder on which Eddie stood. The way his intonation rose and fell when he was telling funny stories. His presence, especially when he was too close, made him feel like it was harder to breathe, pleasant warmth concentrated in his stomach.

The feeling was pleasant and Eddie couldn't help but enjoy it surprisingly much, even though it was fucking crazy, he could easily misinterpret the signs, and maybe the guy was actually straight and just friendly. However, the main problem was that nobody still fucking knew that Eddie was gay. So yeah, Eddie didn't want to either become too obvious for, like, everyone in the apartment or treat Richie as if he was a leper, making it extremely obvious anyway. So he just stayed where he was, trying to look at Richie neither more nor less than an average number of times. Tried and failed miserably.

When they unwound an especially tangled piece of the lights, their fingers touched accidentally a couple of times. Then a couple more as if someone was doing it on purpose but nobody thought it was him, or at least was going to admit it.

"You know the main tragedy of Christmas lights?" Richie asked suddenly, in a voice so calm and gentle, so unlike his crass talking a minute ago. "They're cool and bright, and spectacular, and everybody loves them. But only one day a year when they are needed. The rest of the year they lie in the dust under someone's bed."

Eddie stared at him for a moment, all the power of his brain went into trying to figure out what he meant by it. But the man suddenly burst into laughter, and realizing that he was kidded Eddie barked a laugh too, messing harshly the man's hair from his upper-ladder position in an irresistible urge. Richie adjusted the hair with a hand and looked at him from under his lashes with a sheepish smile on his face.

Bill and Beverly entered the room just in time. Maybe he and Richie were not the only ones who silently wished to be a tandem.

"We done there. As I promised you it's much better now. Go have a look, Eddie," Beverly said. She wasn't not right. The rooms looked comfier, bright and cheery atmosphere was in the air, and it really made Eddie a little bit happier. As corny as it was.

All four of them scanned their handwork, finally deciding that they were very satisfied with result, and on that good note Richie even tried to high-five them obviously failing. Bill quickly fetched a corkscrew that had come from nowhere (because Eddie definitely hadn't bought it yet) and at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows that signaled complete confusion explained that Richie and Bev had brought it with them. Beverly leaned on Richie and with a burst of genuine laughter told them about that purchase. The thing was that there was a mistletoe right above the cash desk, which was accompanied by a price tag that implied that it was just a hilarious advertising move.

"D-did you kiss?" Bill asked with so strange bite in his voice that Eddie almost laughed.

"No, I'm saving myself for marriage. That's what I said to the cashier."

"And she didn't even ask," Bev clarified.

They opened one of the bottles prepared for Christmas and sat together in the living room for another hour until it was too late and Eddie said he had to finish some work. The guests obeyed and, having quickly said goodbye, left him and Bill together in an empty hall. The clock framed in beautiful cream tinsel ticked in silence for several seconds.

"You and Bev seem to be a pretty good team," Eddie said nonchalantly before going back to his bedroom. Bill followed him though, clenching his fingers a little nervously.

"I know what you're thi... thinking. But it's really not like that, man. She isn't i-interested," he said it with a voice somehow unreadable. Maybe he was upset, Eddie was pretty sure he was but maybe it was better this way. Eddie thought it did one no good to go back to exes. There were some reasons why they'd broken up, people are sometimes just too yearning to recall them in time. Besides, he had a wife, and Eddie believed he loved her, simply was a little pissed at her. It was none of his business, but Eddie didn't want his friend to make a mistake he would regret.

"You seem to get on well with Richie," Bill noticed, and Eddie averted his eyes again.

"Yeah," he responded briefly, "We do."

***

Standing near the column at some distance from the noisy crowd of colleagues, Eddie sipped champagne, which he had pretty much got sick of recently, as slow as possible. He just hoped to wait politely in the shadows for two hours – a number that seemed appropriate – pay his respects to the main people in the company and sneak home.

From time to time Eddie checked his phone only to see more new pictures and texts from Richie, Bev, and Bill simultaneously. Richie sent his crazy-eyed selfy from backstage implying that he was very nervous and excited at a time. Richie had his first live show where both Beverly and Bill were present, and Eddie wanted so badly to also support him from the audience but, unfortunately, today he had this stupid office party he couldn't miss because, remember, layoffs, and he had to be presentable to his bosses.

For the most part, his plan to sneak away worked out, but Eddie had forgotten to take into account the fact that the annual report was due by tomorrow, and McKinsey just reminded him that he brought in some additional papers after Eddie had left his cabinet for the party. Therefore, first, he returned to the office to quickly enter the remaining data in the spreadsheets and click submit. When he did, the clock read 1:03.

As he was walking home, he noticed from a distance that Richie was waiting for him near his block of apartments. In a warm puffer jacket and snow-covered glasses, he was dancing on the place and blowing on the hands reddened from the froze. Warm clothes or not, it was still very cold at one in the morning. He only noticed Eddie when he got close enough, waving at him and greeting too loudly for the dead of night.

"Oh, Spaghetti, thank God, if you don't let me in I'm gonna freeze to death and, more importantly, piss myself."

"Why you standing out here? Isn't Bill home?" said Eddie in bewilderment.

"No. He doesn't have keys, genius. So he stayed at ours."

"Then why are you here?"

"Today's Christmas Eve. Wanted to be the first to give you a present."

"Richie, it's the middle of the night! You're not supposed to do it now and you know it. So why the hell? How long are you waiting here, Christ!"

"Just Richie."

"What?"

"I'm Richie, no need to be so formal and call me-"

"Oh, fuck you, motherfucking piece of shit!" he shouted and slapped Richie, making him squeak.

"No-no, no rough moves here, better let me fucking in, you bastard," he said a little desperately, and Eddie snorted.

"Ask nicely and I'll consider it."

"You pure evil! Mean little goblin," Richie huffed in annoyance, but Eddie could see there was no real venom in it.

When in, Richie rushed to the bathroom without taking his jacket off. Eddie snickered at that, then took off his shoes and put them in their proper place. If he was tired before, now he thought most of his fatigue evaporate, replaced by excitement. He suspected that hormones provoked by Richie's appearance fucked with him somehow but he didn't care.

When Richie came back, his cheeks were still red as well as his hands. Eddie couldn't fight the urge to take them and rub a bit his dry, terribly cold skin and to his delight the sudden touch made Richie exhaled sharply. His body radiated freezing cold and it was just natural that Eddie wanted to warm him up. To take Richie into his hands. He wanted to hug this man tightly, giving him his own warmth. This man, who had been waiting for him outside for God knows how long to give him a present 24 hours before Christmas. There was nothing wrong with it, fuck everyone who thought otherwise.

"Take off your jacket. I'll make you tea or... Cocoa?" he let him go with reluctance.

"Wanna see me naked already, cowboy?" he said jokingly with a little chattering of teeth. Eddie thought for a moment.

"Maybe." He turned around quickly to hide his own face, but not fast enough to not notice how Richie's face turned even redder. He headed to the kitchen, while a whole bunch of butterflies invaded his stomach.

Eddie put the kettle on, and while the man was disposing of his outwear and entering the room, he stood near the kitchen cabinets and rummaged inside in search of cocoa tin. Richie sat down at the table, looking at his hands in silence. Maybe he thought about Eddie touching them a minute ago. In a good way, Eddie hoped. He hoped Richie didn't just feel awkward because of his molestation.

"Oh, shit, Rich. I've forgotten to congratulate you on your performance today. Or, technically I didn't, just didn't want to disturb you in the night but... Well. So how it went?"

"Yeah, thank you. I mean, nearly threw up from anxiety but... Yeah. Was cool. Got used to it pretty quickly. And, you know, it was fun, with all these hilarious guys and stuff," Richie smiled talking about it. While drinking cocoa he told him about a couple of scenes they did, and Eddie chuckled with a mug in his hands.

"I wish I could've been there too. Both Beverly and Bill managed to, I feel bad about missing your first performance," he confessed, looking at his mug's contents.

"No, no, it's all right, Eds. You have your work too, these two just unemployed dummies. And technically it hasn't been my first, you know. You've done a lot already."

"No, I..." Eddie suddenly got up from the chair, driven by a burning need to fucking do something. Anything. "You and Bev and Bill – you came here, into my dull apartment, and did all of this," he gestured to the decorations everywhere. He was suddenly overwhelmed with all the affection that his friends gave him and that he almost hadn't noticed it. What the hell, he didn't have it, like, a month ago! If it weren't for them, he would have been sitting at his office for the whole week as usual, grumbling about price increase and high road accident rates at the winter holidays.

It was almost unbearable when Richie shook his head and then followed his lead, standing up too.

"Yeah, but it was you who'd found us, right? Came out of nowhere like some shitty Christmas angel that makes you eat your cookies or die. I was so gone on you, like, immediately," Richie gave out a small laugh, looking at him fondly, and Eddie thought that he probably hadn't misread it after all. But taken off guard by such enamoring sincerity, he didn't tell anything like the first time, and after a couple of seconds without any response Richie's smile faltered becoming a little sad.

"Let me show you your gift?" he asked in a small voice, cracking Eddie's heart into two.

"Yeah... But I'm gonna fetch yours first."

He stormed out of the kitchen, heading to his room on autopilot, and fell onto his knees in front of the bed. He started to root around under his bed, with his mind clouded and heart pounding, trying to figure out how to fix the situation. He was on the verge of mild panicking when the door opened. Eddie put the present on the bed and straighten up in front of Richie. Not that he thought about his further actions, it was more like his body decided for himself, making Eddie close up the remaining distance in one go.

"Forgot to ask, how was your-" Richie started saying but before he could finish, Eddie was already kissing him. The man inhaled loudly, and his lips immediately parted under pressure as if he was just waiting for exactly that, big arms wrapped around Eddie's smaller frame, holding him tight.

Richie was warmer now, so close that Eddie could sense his diaphragm rise and fall, and he shivered a little in Eddie's hands. When Eddie tilted his head a little to lick at his mouth properly, he moaned into the kiss. Eddie's mind hazed because of the sudden flare of arousal. When he pulled away, Richie's eyes got darker behind the lenses, and the both of them were breathing with their mouths open.

"I fucking knew you'd been checking me out," Richie said with feeling, yet his face broke into a cute smile. Eddie reached out to touch it with the tips of his fingers, tracing his lips, probing a little chapped structure. Richie's expression changed into something more ravenous. Frantic want gleaming at the depth of his darkened eyes. He opened his mouth and sucked Eddie's finger, making the other man gasp. Purely on instinct, Eddie played with his tongue for a while, hot and slick against his skin, before retrieving his hand.

"You're lucky I have a habit of washing my hands ten times a minute," Eddie said nonchalantly, making the other man smirk.

"Yeah, definitely that's why I'm lucky. Nothing more."

Eddie touched his stubble gently, running his hand up the cheekbone, near his crow's feet that got even more visible from smiling in an absolutely charming manner, and tucked a short curl behind his ear. Richie leaned on his palm like a cat being patted. Then he moved closer, kissed Eddie's mouth again, and his lips continued their way to his neck. When Eddie's hands were somehow under his clothes, Richie let out a shuddering breath. Under the garish sweater with some obnoxious picture on it, his skin was covered in goosebumps, and Eddie wanted to make him moan again. This thought went straight to his dick, made him stiff in his office trousers.

He reached out and cupped Richie's cock, massaging it through the fabric, and Richie shut his eyes closed, his hips bucked towards the hand. Then Eddie's hand slid inside his underwear, finding the hardening delicate head and gently stroking it with his thumb. That was enough to force a poorly suppressed moan from the other man, his breath hot on the delicate skin of Eddie's neck.

"Gifts later?" Richie mumbled, with his voice hoarse. Satisfaction from the sounds, hot air tickling his skin made Eddie feel hot all over and he almost failed to register the question.

"Ah? Yeah. Later. While I'm moving your gift out of my bed, start taking your damn clothes off."

"Fuck yeah."

While Eddie was looking for a place for the gift, he peeked out of the corner of his eye as Richie undressed, currently wearing only a soft T-shirt and boxers. Eventually, he just put the fancy box on the shelf and pull off some of his clothes just in time to remove another man's T-shirt by himself.

Eddie came from behind, hugging him, and buried his nose into Richie's nape, where the hairs tickled Eddie's face. It smelled like a mixture of shampoo and cologne wafting from his neck. Richie purred at the activity behind him, allowing Eddie to take off his T-shirt, and then turned around, giving Eddie a soft kiss again. His eyes quickly scanned the person in front of him from top to bottom, and Richie licked his lips before pushing him gently to the bed.

"Oh, that's what you want, right? Like, we don't have to..." he hesitated a bit, frowning nervously, only in his glasses and boxers, and so vulnerable with his broad shoulders and hairy chest and strong arms. And with his dick tenting the boxers so obviously. He looked sexy as hell, all at Eddie's mercy, and this sight sent a rush of want through him. He could leave him with a half-chub, unsatisfied and desperate. But he didn't want to. He barely could keep his hands to himself.

"Yes, come 'ere, dummy. What did you think we were about to do naked? Play dominoes?"

"Play dominoes with my ass, baby."

"I really can't figure what you mean right now."

"Nothing. Just my lower brain rambling," Richie said, and Eddie persistently tugged on his hand, forcing him to fall onto the bed with him. Over him. Richie's weight so strangely cozy and dear made him feel sheltered. He could imagine he could get used to it.

Eddie splayed on the bed in his unbuttoned shirt and boxers, and Richie desperately tried to rip it off too. Clothes hindered them to feel each other's skin that was getting more and more unbearable each new second. Their hands got in each other's way because they couldn't decide who'd got to be first, and after Richie smacked him accidentally for the second time Eddie snarled at him, sucking a bright painful bruise on the pale neck and tugging on his curls.

Maybe he was a bit too harsh right now, his mind in a haze, impulses of arousal went through his body from every touch, concentrating in the lower stomach, and his dick craving attention. He was just too horny to control these urges but Richie didn't seem to mind too busy groping him everywhere with his large palms. And according to little noises he was making and pitiful attempts to press his very hard dick anywhere he was pretty much enjoying it.

As reminded about it, Eddie caught his dick in his palm, touching it with interest. It was hot and heavy in his hand, covered with delicate skin that was pleasant to the touch. Eddie played with it for a while and then reached for the dark head smeared with precome, squeezing it gently with his fingers. It was deeply arousing how it was reacting to Eddie's grip, twitching a little; the sensation made Eddie whine. All of Richie jumped at this sound, and the man hurried to take him in his hand too.

"You like it? I like yours too," he said in a dumb manner, utterly mindless. Then Eddie massaged his balls and Richie cried out. "Ah, yeah, like this. If I came, like, right now, would it be really bad?"

"Nah. It's hot. Means you enjoying," Eddie mumbled, and they kissed again, tongues entwined. Eddie ran his hand absentmindedly over Richie's hairy chest, touching his nipples, and moved it lower to pet his soft belly.

"I fucking do," Richie panted. And he did the same, stroking Eddie's torso. His touches so passionate. His hand shaking. Lips probing him everywhere he could. Richie's glasses were completely askew now and he didn't seem to detect this fact, too absorbed by want. Eddie had to take them off for him until they fell somewhere into bed, and someone accidentally crushed them.

"You look so good, taste so good," Richie whispered between kisses, passionate and deep, pulling away just to get some air. In the process, he tried to snuggle to Eddie even more, his dick poking at Eddie's stomach. Appreciating his fervor very much, Eddie ran his hand over the hairy thigh and petted it for a while before groping at his ass.

"Can you fuck me, please?" Richie said breathlessly. Eddie wanted to; he could hardly restrain himself from pouncing at him after these words. But he wasn't sure he was experienced enough not to hurt Richie and, like...

"I... I don't have lube and condoms."

Richie looked up at him, squinting without his glasses, and caressed his partner's hair absentmindedly while thinking about possible decisions.

"Then maybe finger me?"

"Yeah, okay," Eddie agreed without thinking. "But... wait. Hasn't the problem of lube remained?"

"Right, but I think we can stick to the working scheme, can't we?"

It took some time for Eddie to understand the implication, but Richie's eyebrows wiggle pushed his thoughts into the right direction. Despite faux-smug expression, Richie's face was flushed red and probably hot to the touch. Eddie reached out to make sure, tracing his sharp jawline and his stubbled cheek. Then he leaned closer, rubbing his nose against the other one's, and kissed the tempting mouth, before biting softly on the disturbed lower lip. Richie opened his mouth obediently, only for Eddie to slide the fingers between his lips a few moments later. Richie sucked them thoroughly, and that feeling alone was almost enough to make him come. He only thought it might be his cock and let out a strangled sound, provoked by a rush of desire that went through his body and increased tension in his groin.

"Any rules?" Eddie asked after he'd placed the wet finger on the tight ring of muscles, trying not to think much about hygiene. The way Richie fidgeted under his hand, leaning into the touch, helped with it a great amount.

"No rules. Just don't push too hard unless you want to make another hole in me," Richie whispered near his head, surrounding Eddie with his presence. He filled all of the senses, his low voice in his ears, his huge figure that blocked all the view, and his nice weight on the top of his body.

"Doing this much?" Eddie asked stupidly, but Richie still answered.

"Sometimes. Or are you asking about, like, to you?"

This question was a mistake because it made his imagination flooded with a dozen of pictures how Richie was playing with himself thinking about him, or maybe even sending him stupid memes while sticking his long fingers into his butt. It made the burning in his lower stomach almost unbearable.

"Fuck."

"We already."

It took a while to get one joint in him, but soon Richie's muscles gave in, spreading under gentle pressure. The man closed his eyes, nuzzling into the space near Eddie's head so that the brunette's hair touched Richie's chin. He was almost sitting on Eddie's stomach now, putting half his weight on his arms and legs on either side of his partner. Eddie tentatively pushed further, curling the fingertips and massaging other man's insides, until he opened up. It seemed to work up because in a while Richie was thrusting towards him and wiggling his hips in rhythm with his finger.

"Rich, sweetie, you like it?" Eddie asked in awe, and Richie moaned loudly. In this position, Eddie was able to suck on his nipples and lick at his chest, which he started to do occasionally, adding pleasant sensations.

"Yeah, feels good. Deeper, please," he panted, and when Eddie spitted on his fingers more and penetrated him with one whole and then two fingers, softly brushing his prostate, he started to caress furiously his own swollen dick, the head wet and angry red color.

"Eds... Eddie," he chanted before coming in no more than two minutes, his whole body shuddering.

Eddie stopped, and Richie, despite his obvious exhaustion gave him an amazing yet very short head because Eddie was already on edge and he came almost at the very time Richie's lips closed around his oversensitive cock.

Richie just laid by his side, waiting for him to get his breathing in order and yawning loudly before he finally found Eddie's state satisfactory and asked, "How you doin'?"

"I need to wash my fucking hands." Eddie's frowning made Richie let out a small tired laugh.

How he even did it in the first place was deemed to remain a mystery. Well, maybe be, he wasn't that crazy as he thought when living with Myra and could actually have sex with a person without feeling utter disgust. Because he wasn't really a germaphobe, he just cleaned things when he was nervous, but he was completely gay, and that's why he felt so bad doing it with his ex-wife. Or at least, that was what his internal voice said, sounding suspiciously like his shitty therapist.

Eddie went to the bathroom, yawning too. Now he wanted to sleep so bad that his eyelids went down with the strangely sensible force of gravity. But he still needed to have a talk with Richie and they wanted to give presents. He had a whole day tomorrow that he could spend sleeping with Richie in the bed until evening.

When he re-entered the room, Richie was already wearing his glasses and revolving around his gift. Sleepy but childishly excited eyes darted on him, and despite the fact that Eddie sighed in exaggerated judgmental way, his lips formed a happy little smile.

The men, still completely naked, exchanged gifts in the middle of the wrong night, and it was the most amazing thing Eddie had done in the last years (well, except sex with Richie, obviously). Eddie got a navy tie with small jumping reindeers' patterns that could be even appropriate to wear in the office, black silk pajamas that were very nice to the touch, and some s'mores and crackers. Richie let out an excited laugh when he unpacked his Darth Vader toaster, pizza socks, and expensive coffee. Eddie knew he would like these silly things but still felt delicious warmth spreading throughout his body. It was really a long time since he had made a gift to somebody just because he wanted to make him happy. He sent Bill Christmas cards every year but still... It wasn't exactly the same.

After a bit of a fuss made by the two of them around the new things, the men laid down on the spacious bed, their limbs tangled.

"You know, I wanted to buy you a champagne set," Richie mumbled somewhere under his chin, and where Eddie had been petting his unruly hair. His hand froze because its owner was caught between irritation and fun, trying to decide whether to pick but all in vain.

"No fucking way."

"Yes way. I got your office party text where you'd been whining about how you got sick of this damn champagne when I was literally staying in a line to buy it!"

"You moron! You're shitting me!"

"Yes, I am, but it could be possible, right?"

Eddie smiled, continuing to caress the dark curls, and enjoyed the quiet domesticity. After some time Richie asked again.

"So, hm. Now I'm sure you like me at least a little bit."

"Of course, I do. Did you think otherwise?"

"No, I mean... I thought you were straight at first but you went on looking at my... lips and stuff. I tried to give you some hints to test the waters but you completely ignored them, so don't you dare to imply that it was so obvious. I was fucking terrified that I had misread it all. Bev kept saying you definitely were into me though."

"What? How did she know?" he huffed a bit annoyed, but actually it was about time for Eddie to reveal his secret at least to the closest ones. Richie's words also made him feel a little bad about tormenting the man because of his own gay cluelessness and irrational fears. He touched his arm gently as a sign of apology, but Richie seemed to be engulfed by something else.

"Donno, she's always been insightful. So. What do you think, Eds? I mean... You wanna this to be a one-time thing or...?" he asked, tentatively looking in his eye, and Eddie's heart swelled with affection. If Richie thought that he even had a chance to ponder about it looking at this cute guy that was hugging him with these huge hands, he was very dumb.

"No? I'd like to be your partner... or boyfriend, call it what you want. If you don't mind, of course."

"Oh, I absolutely don't mind it," he said and immediately reached to kiss Eddie in the mouth. "Thought I already look too clingy and stuff."

"Hm. You kind of does, I suppose, but I have to assure you that I like you clingy," Eddie laughed, squeezing Richie's leg between his own emphatically.

When they almost got asleep, Richie was already snoring softly, Eddie thought about their other friends and what they were doing. Perhaps, they'd been sleeping a long time ago like any other normal people usually do at this time, but one very dubious thought unintentionally crossed his mind.

"I hope Bev and Bill didn't fuck," he muttered to no one in particular, but Richie stirred and opened his eyes. It took ten full seconds until he finally blinked and burst into laughter like a madman.

"What the hell, man! I know, Bill has a wife, and I don't wanna my girl to be stuck in a perspectiveless relationship too, but can you fucking imagine, like, they're sitting in our room and then Bill's like: "I h-hope they didn't f-fuck there." That's nuts!"

The thought was suddenly stupid and rather comical than anything else. Especially since Richie couldn't stop laughing and was persistently knocking down the sheets during his laughing fit.

"Go fuck yourself, Rich."

"Don't wanna. You already did it." he grinned stupidly, his overbite in full view, and Eddie was laughing too, while the time read 2.36.

And the only thing Eddie was thinking about now was that he could fall in love with the man and that Richie actually gave him a much more precious gift that he could even have thought of.


End file.
